Her scent.
Christ, her fucking scent.
It had been different when we were kids. Sweeter, lighter, manageable. But today, when it had spiked in that hallway, it had hit my system like a freight train. Category Red didn't even begin to cover it. Every instinct I'd spent years controlling had roared to life, demanding I claim her, protect her, never let her out of my sight again.
Heat crawled through my body at the memory.
The way she'd looked pressed against that wall, her eyes wide and dark, her scent pouring off her in waves. The way her hands had felt against my chest, pushing me away even though I could smell her arousal mixing with the fear.
I was hard.
Fuck.
I headed for the bathroom, yanking my shirt over my head as I went. The shower was already running by the time I kicked off my pants, steam filling the space. I stepped under the spray, letting the hot water pound against my shoulders.
It didn't help.
My hand wrapped around my dick almost on instinct, my head falling back against the tile. I shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be thinking about her like this. But my body didn't care about should or shouldn't.
All it cared about was the memory of her scent.
I stroked myself slowly at first, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But within seconds I was gone, my hand moving faster as images flooded my mind. Reina pressed against that wall. Reina's neck exposed as I traced it with my nose. Reina's voice, breathless and shaking, saying my name.
My grip tightened.
I imagined what would have happened if she hadn't pushed me away. If I'd given in to every instinct screaming at me to claim her right there in that hallway. My mouth on her neck, my hands pinning her wrists, her body arching against mine as I...
I came with a growl, spilling over my hand as my vision whited out.
For a moment, I just stood there under the spray, breathing hard. The release should have helped. Should have cleared my head.
It didn't.
If anything, I wanted her more.
Twenty minutes later, I was dressed and heading out the door. I needed a drink. Needed to be around people. Needed to do something other than stand in my apartment obsessing over a woman who'd made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with me.
Power Play was packed when I arrived.
The bar was owned by my younger brother Noah, and it had become the unofficial hangout spot for players and fans alike. Neon signs advertising beer brands competed with jerseys hanging on the walls. The sound system was playing some rock playlist loud enough that conversation required leaning in close.
Perfect.
I pushed through the crowd, nodding at a few teammates who called out greetings. Noah was behind the bar, mixing drinks with the kind of efficiency that came from years of practice. He spotted me and grinned.
"Little Brother," he called over the music. "Usual?"
"Yeah."
I was halfway to the bar when her scent hit me.
My entire body went rigid the second it filled my senses.
No. No fucking way.
I turned slowly, scanning the crowd. It took me a second to spot her, tucked into a corner booth with Shayla, the head photographer I'd met a few times. They were laughing about something, drinks in hand, looking like they'd been friends for years instead of hours.
Reina.
